Everybody Dies
by dalekchung
Summary: It's just another normal day at NCIS when a gunnery sergeant is found, dead. But nothing is normal about this case. And it's all because of a blonde haired teenage spy.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Alex Rider or NCIS.**

EVERYBODY DIES

I

"Tony, I will kill you if you do not stop-" Ziva David's day hadn't started off very well. She'd woken up a half hour before she was supposed to, her run was hindered by a horde of drunk men, and she'd arrived late to work.

"What's wrong with you today?" Tony DiNozzo, senior field agent and a pain in the ass, asked, his feet thrown up on his desk as he casually threw a paper ball at Ziva. She caught it, throwing it back. It hit Tony in the middle of his forehead.

"Alright!" Tony rubbed the point of contact, making a face. He turned to McGee, who was typing something rapidly into his computer, "McGoo!"

"Busy, Tony," McGee didn't bother looking up.

"Oh, come _on,_ people!" Tony threw a paper ball at McGee, exasperated. Ziva sighed, turning her own attention to the paperwork on her desk.

Ziva wasn't sure what Tony was on about this time, but he was doing a ridiculous accent, saying to McGee, "Moneypennny, let me tell you the secret of the world..."

"Yeah? Let's hear it."

Ziva grinned to herself as Tony jumped, startled, managing to fall off his chair and onto the floor. He hesitantly peered over his desk at Gibbs, "Uh, hey boss. I was just – uh..."

Gibbs didn't pay the field agent any mind, "Get your gear. We got a dead gunny."

Ziva was already out of her seat before the man had finished his statement. Tony and McGee were up and ready too.

The team arrived at the crime scene fifteen minutes later. It was a quaint little house in a quiet residential area. Nothing out of the ordinary.

"DiNozzo-"

"Crime scene photos, got it boss," Tony picked up the camera and took a quick photo of McGee's face before darting off.

"McGee, David-"

"Bag and tag-"

"Sketches-"

Ziva followed Tony into the house, McGee right behind her.

She didn't have to go very far to see the body. It was lying in the living room, limbs twisted around in awkward angles. Bruises and cuts littered the man's body, which was only covered halfway. The definite cause of death, however, was the bullet hole right in between the man's eyes.

"Gunnery Sergeant Matthew Wilson," Tony pointed at the dog tags around the man's neck.

"Looks like he put up a good fight," McGee commented.

Ziva had her doubts, but she kept silent. The dead gunnery sergeant had no defensive wounds that she could see.

"I'm afraid that this young lad," Ducky and Palmer appeared in the doorway. Ducky had taken a moment to observe the man, "didn't put up much of a fight at all. Look at his wrists – ligature marks. He was tied up."

"Someone was angry," Tony said, snapping another photo.

Ziva shook her head, "Or, someone was torturing him for information."

Her cell phone rang in her jacket. It didn't happen very often, but Ziva knew that whenever it did, the call was important.

She accepted the call without hesitation, "David."

There was a moment of heavy panting on the other side, " _Ziva, it's me."_

Ziva froze, mouth open. The voice was male. He had a familiar English accent that told her exactly who this was.

"Alex?"

By then, McGee and Tony weren't even trying to pretend that they weren't curious.

The heavy panting continued, " _I need your help. I'm at the intersection of Walker Lane and Smithson Road. It's not far from where you are. Can you pick me up?"_

Ziva was already out the door, "I am coming! What is wrong? Are you hurt?"

" _I'm fine,"_ Alex tried to reassured her, " _Just a couple scratches. Do you have a first aid kit?"_

"Yes," Ziva was biting the inside of her cheek.

" _Good,"_ Alex hung up a second later.

Ziva hurried back to the car.

"Going somewhere?" Gibbs cut her off, his usual coffee cup in his hand.

Ziva nodded, "My friend – he is hurt."

Something on her face must have shown Gibbs how urgent this was because a moment later, he nodded and handed her the keys.

"Thank you," she breathed, racing to the driver's seat. A second later, she was roaring down the street, repeating in her mind, ' _Walker Lane, Smithson Road. Walker Lane, Smithson Road'._

There! She could see someone leaning against a sign. The figure was hunched over, his hands clasping his abdomen.

"Alex!" Ziva parked the car and hurried out, carrying the first aid kit, "You are hurt."

"Ziva, it's nice to see you again." the young man was blonde, but his hair was matted with dirt and blood. He looked young, maybe around his early twenties. Ziva never asked how old he was, and even if she did, Alex would have never answered truthfully.

Ziva instructed him to sit down. She began dressing the wound, "When did this happen?"

"Uh-" Alex groaned as Ziva prodded the wound. It was a knife wound, as if someone had tried to stab him. It was thankfully not as deep as Ziva thought, "Maybe fifteen minutes ago. I saw the guy kill that Marine and followed him. He knew I was following and set up an ambush for me."

Ziva tied up the bandage, "I thought nothing ever got past you."

Alex gritted his teeth, "He was aiming for my throat."

The Israeli had nothing to say. Instead, she helped Alex up and led him to the car, "We will be going to NCIS headquarters. You do not want to go to a hospital, correct?"

Alex nodded, wincing, "You work at NCIS now?"

"As a liaison," Ziva confirmed, closing the door behind Alex and getting in herself.

"I suppose the whole 'I don't want to go' speech isn't going to work, is it?" he grumbled.

Ziva laughed, starting up the car, "Not this time. I will have Ducky – he is a medical examiner – look at your wound. You are also a witness to the murder. You will have to share that information with us."

"You won't tell them, right?" Alex had a worried look on his face, "About my occupation."

Ziva looked at the young man, but quickly put her eyes back on the road after Alex pointed urgently. Seeing nothing, she sighed and turned back, "My lips are closed."

"Sealed," Alex corrected instantly.

"Close enough," Ziva scoffed before turning back to the road.

Another fifteen minutes and the two were back at NCIS headquarters. It took another ten minutes to convince Alex to get into the building and another fifteen to actually move the man. It seemed that both of them had underestimated the wound's fatality.

Tony and McGee were onto her as soon as they saw her.

"Where did you go?"

"What was that phone call about?"

"Who's that?" the last question was in perfect unison, as if they had planned it.

"A witness," Ziva urged Alex to walk a little faster. "He needs to see Ducky."

"Who needs to see Ducky?" Gibbs' ability to materialize out of thin air made Ziva even more annoyed than she was. Couldn't they see that this was important?

"I need to see Ducky," Alex replied, his words forced.

Gibbs got a look at the dirt and blood on the English boy. He nodded to Ziva, "I'll help. I'm going down there to see Duck anyway."

"I'm not leaving him," Ziva warned as Gibbs helped Alex drape an arm around his shoulder.

"I never asked you to."

Ziva was well aware of the other two field agents, following them, their curious eyes digging into their backs.

She cast a worried look at Alex, who seemed to have paled from the walk. She couldn't help thinking: what if he couldn't get out of this one this time?

EVERYBODY*LIES

Alex had conflicting feelings about Ducky, the medical examiner. The man was extremely talkative, and Alex found it intriguing to listen to his stores. On the other hand, Alex was reluctant to let the man look at his wound. If he lifted up his shirt, Ducky was bound to see the mess of scars on his front.

Ziva seemed to sense his reluctance. She led the other man away, saying something about an "Abby".

"Now, let's take a look at that wound, shall we?" Ducky was putting on gloves.

Alex hesitated, but eventually the feeling of dizzying pain swayed him. He lifted up his shirt.

"It never occurred to you to go to a hospital?" Ducky seemed shocked by the amount of scarlet blood staining the white bandages.

"I hate hospitals," Alex gritted out as the medical examiner unwound the bandages.

Ducky nodded along as he began to clean the blood off, "Yes. My dear boy, you remind me of someone… Oh, what's this?"

Alex winced as the man leaned closer to examine the scars, "I'm accident prone."

Ducky shook his head, "These cuts are placed methodically. These were not the result of any accident."

Alex said nothing.

"Are you, perhaps, depressed?" Ducky asked, moving on to wrap up the wound.

"No!" Alex was alarmed.

The medical examiner fell silent for the remainder of the time. Alex had the feeling that it was rare for the man to be silent.

"There you go," Ducky helped Alex off the metal autopsy table once he was finished, "That's a good lad."

The door slid open. Alex glanced over to see Ziva and the silver haired man.

"Alex!" Ziva hurried over to help the spy, "You are fine?"

"Yeah," Alex gritted his teeth.

Ducky took off his gloves, "Yes, well Mr. Rider here should be more careful. It seems someone wanted him dead. Thankfully the knife missed all the organs and is merely a flesh wound."

"Thank you, Ducky," Ziva began to lead Alex out of the room.

"Bring him back to the squad room!" the silver haired man called, "Try to get him to remember."

"Jethro, I must discuss..."

Alex didn't hear the rest of his sentence as the door shut behind him.

"Alex..." Ziva hesitated before beginning to speak in Hebrew, " _What really happened? Who did this to you?"_

Alex answered back in Hebrew, " _It doesn't concern you and NCIS."_

Ziva glared at him, pulling him inside the elevator, " _It does! The man who stabbed you killed our Marine!"_

Alex crossed his arms with difficulty, frowning, " _It pertains only to MI6_ _and CIA_ _. Leave it, Ziva."_

" _No,"_ the elevator opened with a _ding,_ and Ziva helped Alex out, " _tell me who we're dealing with. If they will hurt my team, I have to know."_

They paused outside the elevator as Alex went over the options. He didn't want to get his friend involved with his mission again, but he also didn't want her in the field without knowing what kind of danger was out there.

" _SCORPIA,"_ Alex finally conceded, " _they've reformed, basing their operations here, in America."_

He watched the conflicting emotions flicker across Ziva's face. It might not have been obvious to others, but Alex could read her like a book.

" _I see,"_ Ziva began to move again, " _We must warn Gibbs. We must warn the Director!"_

" _No!"_ Alex stopped her forcefully, despite the pain in his side, " _They can't be involved. If they know, they'll be a target. They'll capture your team and torture them, just like they did to us."_

Ziva was quiet.

"Uh, guys?"

Alex's glare swiveled to the man who had interrupted them. It was the man from before. He was a little chubby, not that there was anything wrong with that. He seemed to be the type to stay on the computer all day and night.

"Yes, McGee?" Ziva brushed past him, helping Alex to a seat next to her desk.

Another man sidled up to them, "What's going on? Who are you?"

"Alex Rider," Alex introduced himself, "I'm a good friend of Ziva's."

"A British accent!" the man grinned. He tried to imitate James Bond, "the name is DiNozzo. Anthony DiNoz- _hey!"_

Ziva had smacked him on the back of the head, rather viciously too.

Glaring, the man finished his introduction, "You can call me Tony."

"Nice to meet you, Tony," Alex offered a hand.

"I'm Timothy McGee," the other man introduced himself.

Alex studied the man's face. He was almost certain that he'd seen McGee's face somewhere else before.

"You're Thom E. Gemcity, right?" Alex asked, "Author of _Deep Six?"_

"Ooh, McProbie's got a fan!" Tony had returned to his desk.

McGee let out a sigh of annoyance before answering, "Yeah."

"My boss likes your works," Alex grinned at the memory, "Reads them every other day."

"Jones?" Ziva questioned, her eyebrows raised, "Really?"

Alex nodded, grinning. He turned back to McGee, "Can I have your autograph?"

"Save it for another time."

Alex found it funny to see all three of the agents spring back to work.

"Boss, got something," McGee directed everyone's attention to the plasma, "Wilson's been getting threatening emails for the past month – all from the same person."

"Well?" Gibbs asked.

McGee typed something and a picture replaced the emails on the plasma, "Juliet Roberts, Wilson's ex-wife."

"Address?"

"Here," McGee handed a sticky note to Gibbs, who promptly took off, "DiNozzo!"

Tony grabbed his gear, taking off with a, "on your six, boss!"

Ziva made a gesture that was similar to an eye-roll, but wasn't, "Okay. You must tell me everything you remember."

EVERYBODY*DIES

"We made a composite sketch," McGee told Gibbs in the observation room, "Abby ran it through every database she could think of – even Interpol. Nothing."

"So either he is new to the business," Ziva contemplated, "or he is _very_ good."

"What else did he say?" Gibbs demanded, taking a swig of his coffee.

"The guy was beating Wilson with whatever he could get his hands on. Alex was across the street when it happened. He tried calling 911, but there wasn't any signal-"

"Conveniently," Tony acknowledged.

"-so he tried to get to a place with bars. Before that could happen, he spotted our murderer running away and decided to chase him. The guy spotted him, ambushed him, and stabbed him before running away," McGee finished.

"The woman could have easily hired that man," Ziva said, observing the woman in the interrogation room, "She had the money and the motive."

"We'll see," Gibbs swept out of the room. A moment later he appeared in the interrogation room.

"What's your connection with Rider anyway?" Tony leaned closer to Ziva, suspicious.

Ziva gave him a small glare, "I do not see how that is any of your business."

"He's a witness! He is my business!" Tony angled his body and squinted at Ziva, "A brother? No, you don't look anything alike. A _lover?"_

Ziva hit Tony on his arm, hard, "None of your earwax!"

 _"Beeswax,"_ Tony corrected.

McGee interrupted their banter, "Guys..."

Gibbs had situated himself in front of the suspect. The woman, Juliet Roberts, was an undeniably beautiful woman. Her ginger locks cascaded down her back, and she had a pleasant face.

"She looks like Jennifer Connelly," Tony commented. "From _A Beautiful Mind._ You know – the movie about John Nash? Great movie."

Ziva and McGee promptly ignored him.

In the interrogation room, Gibbs opened the file folder, producing printed pictures of the emails the woman had sent Wilson.

"Look familiar?" he asked, spreading them, all thirty-two of them, out on the table top.

The woman leaned in for a better look. Her emotions were easy to read as she read each one. A look that all the agents recognized popped onto her face.

"Yeah," Roberts replied daintily, "But I didn't send these-"

"The emails came from your computer," Gibbs said icily, "You signed your name on the bottom. Tell me, if you didn't send these, then who did?"

" _Oooh,"_ Tony winced, "he's using the 'Gibbs glare'. Poor woman."

Roberts began to breath heavily, tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes, " _I_ didn't write these! After Matt came back from his deployment, he wouldn't leave me alone. He would spend his time outside of my house, trying to get me to talk to him. My boyfriend, he wanted Matt to leave us alone. He's the one who wrote them for me!"

"Name," Gibbs demanded, his tone not at all questioning.

Roberts was moping up her tears of not sadness, but of panic, "Why? What's happened to Matt?"

" _Name,"_ Gibbs demanded once more, his patience tried.

"Boris Lynch," Roberts whispered.

Gibbs handed her a pen and a sheet of paper, "Address?"

The woman quickly scribbled down something. She looked up, "Did something happen to Matt?"

"Where were you this morning, about nine AM?"

Roberts' eyes darted around the room, "Work – Atraxi Architectural Firm."

"And where was Lynch?"

"I don't know!" Roberts was still panicked, "Please! Did something happen to Matt?"

Gibbs grabbed the paper and his folder, standing. He made it to the door before answering, "Yeah. He was murdered."

All three of the agents in the observation room winced as Gibbs left, leaving a shocked Juliet Roberts behind.

* * *

 **A/N:** Uh... Hi? You may be wondering (again) what I'm doing. Never fear! My plan is clear! Ha that rhyme.

I don't exactly think this is the best thing I've written, and honestly the plot work it complete and utter poop, but you know what? I wrote it, so I'm going to post it. That's right, I already have the whole thing written up. Impressed?

Eh, you shouldn't be. This is basically a three-shot, with _way_ too many scene changes. I'll post the next one in a couple days :)

-Alice (for behind the scenes, follow me on twitter at dalekchung)


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN NCIS NOR DO I OWN ALEX RIDER. WHY? BECAUSE I AM SIMPLY A LOWLY HIGH SCHOOL STUDENT WITH A FUTURE THAT PROBABLY DOESN'T INCLUDE WRITING FOR PROFESSIONAL PURPOSES.**

PREVIOUSLY ON NCIS (haha, my little joke that probably no one understands, so why am I typing this?):

The team is assigned a case involving a beaten and shot Gunnery Sergeant Matthew Wilson. Ziva receives a call from Alex, who is wounded (stabbed by the same man who killed Wilson). She brings Alex back to NCIS headquarters, where Ducky patches him up. A composite sketch is drawn up, but it doesn't match anyone. Another lead leads the team to the Marine's ex-wife, Juliet Roberts, who reveals that her boyfriend, Boris Lynch, was the one to send the threatening emails to Wilson.

* * *

EVERYBODY DIES

II

"Convenient," Ziva said as she entered the observation room once again, "he lives directly across from Wilson."

"Looks a little like the sketch too," McGee held up the drawing, comparing it to the real Boris Lynch.

"Nah," Tony tilted his head, "his nose is _way_ too big."

The door opened and Gibbs strolled in, looking as confident as ever.

"His glare is on point today," Tony whispered loudly.

Ziva looked at him oddly, "It is his glare, is it not?"

Gibbs tossed the folder onto the table, not bothering to sit, "Where were you today at around nine?"

The man at the interrogation table didn't look like he was easily intimidated. He had long, greasy hair and tattoos up his arms. A scruffy beard completed his look.

"Now why would Juliet Roberts date a guy like him?" Tony wondered aloud.

"I was home," Lynch ground out, "like I am every Saturday morning."

"No alibi?" Gibbs leaned on the table, looming over Lynch.

The man hesitated before answering, "No."

The hesitation was enough for Gibbs, who could pick up a lie a mile away, "Are you sure about that?"

Lynch hesitated again.

" _I asked you a question!"_ Gibbs hit the table, suddenly shouting in the man's ear.

"Okay!" Lynch took a hand and ran it through his greasy hair, agitated, "I was with another woman! Andrea Sullivan. You can check with her."

"I will," Gibbs growled, backing away from the man.

In the interrogation room, McGee went to work.

He turned his attention onto the folders and what the folders held. He spread out the pictures of the emails, "Care to explain these?"

Lynch took one look at the emails before spilling, "They weren't real threats! I just wanted to scare Wilson off, that's all."

Gibbs stared at the man for a few minutes, his eyes piercing Lynch's own.

"Oh, I love this part," Tony grinned, rubbing his hands together.

Ziva crossed her arms, "As do I."

"You live across the street from Wilson. Did you ever get into any fights?"

Lynch shook his head fervently, "No, no. Hell, he didn't even know where I lived. I always had my eye on the bastard, though. Videotaped his every move."

"Alibi checks out," McGee told Ziva and Tony. "He's telling the truth. Kind of. There were two other women there."

"Disgusting," Ziva made a face.

"We'll need those tapes," Gibbs said, standing up straight.

"Yeah, yeah," Lynch looked nervous, "Listen, you won't tell Juliet about..."

Gibbs ignored his statement and walked out.

EVERYBODY*DIES

"Ziva… _I'm so bored!"_ Alex whined over the phone. He was in one of the conference rooms, a guard outside his door after spending the night at Ziva's house.

"Sorry, Alex," Ziva said into the speaker as she watched the videotapes on the plasma, "Just a precaution. Besides, you never know when we might need you again."

" _Well, hurry up and catch the guy, will you?"_ Alex moaned, " _I'm supposed to go back to the UK tomorrow."_

Ziva snorted and hung up.

"What do we got?" Gibbs strolled in, coffee in hand.

"Lynch was telling the truth, boss," McGee offered, "The video is timestamped and at the time of the murder you can hear..." He didn't finish the sentence. Ziva made a face.

"We can't get a good look at the killer's face, but we see how Wilson was killed," Tony supplied. "Poor guy. He was beaten up for at least half an hour. Then beaten some more after he was down."

"Fast forward the tape," Gibbs ordered.

McGee obliged, typing in something quickly.

"Stop!" Ziva pointed at the plasma, her eyes fixed on another figure that had appeared, "Who is that?"

It was the back of someone's head.

"Fast forward more."

Tony came to stand next to Ziva, crossing his arms and glaring at the screen.

"Stop!" Ziva said again, "Can you zoom in on his face?"

More typing. The image zoomed in and was digitally enhanced a moment later.

Fair hair and a pair of brown eyes. A decidedly handsome face of a twenty-ish year old man.

"Isn't that…?" McGee's question was met by stunned looks.

"Our witness," Gibbs finished, "DiNozzo. Interrogation room. _Now!"_

"Gotcha, boss," Tony was quick to leave. He evidently didn't want to be there when the man was angry.

Gibbs advanced on Ziva, his ice blue eyes blazing, "a friend, huh?"

"A friend," Ziva told herself quietly as Gibbs strode off, probably to talk to Abby. She sighed, "a friend..."

EVERYBODY*DIES

"We know you were at the scene, Rider!" Gibbs shouted, "You were with the killer and Wilson!"

The man didn't say anything, his eyes fixed on the mirror in front of him.

"I don't think I've ever seen the boss so angry," Tony commented.

Ziva didn't say anything, her arms crossed in a defiant gesture.

McGee wasn't in the room. He was with Abby, attempting to access Alex's phone and emails.

"What were you doing there?" Gibbs continued shouting. It had been nearly an hour and neither of the interrogation room's occupants had relented. " _Tell me!_ "

Alex spoke up for the first time, his eyes still fixed on the mirror in front of him, "I would like my phone call now."

Gibbs slammed the table with his palms, before storming over to the door. Addressing those in the observation room, he snapped, "get him his damn phone call."

"You are right," Ziva said as Gibbs exited the room, "He is overly angry."

"Yeah… he's like Godzilla," Tony stroked his chin, ready to quote someone. Gibbs entered the room before he could, his face very dark. Tony wisely did not continue.

The three of them watched as a telephone was placed in the interrogation room.

Alex quickly reached for it, dialing a number that seemed to be too long.

"What is he doing…?" Gibbs asked, mainly to himself. He made his way closer to the one-sided mirror.

There was a moment of silence as Alex waited for the other person to pick up.

"Joe? It's Alex."

Pause.

"There's been a little… situation. I kind of need your help."

Another pause.

" _Am not!_ And besides, I played by the rules this time."

A longer pause. The man in the room looked sheepishly at the table, "That was _one_ time and no one got hurt."

Another pause.

"I'm at NCIS."

Alex grinned at something the man said.

"Okay. See ya, Joe."

Just as Alex hung up, Gibbs cell phone began ringing. The silver haired man looked down, frowning. He put his phone to speakerphone.

" _Boss, we got something,"_ McGee sounded excited.

Abby interrupted him, " _We got into his phone! Gibbs, you should have seen the amount of protection he has on this thing! I had to cash in a few favors from-"_

"Abby," Gibbs chastised, looking much more at ease.

" _Right,"_ Abby got back on track, " _These numbers are_ way _too long to be phone numbers, but it looks like they are._ _Alex called them a bunch of times over the past few days._ _They're untraceable, but_ _he_ _has them saved under weird names. Like, one is called 'Bank' and another is called 'Peppermint'. Those are the two that call the most."_

 _"_ And?" Gibbs pressed on.

" _And, Gibbs,"_ Abby sounded pleased with herself, " _I got into his texts. It looks like we've found ourselves a spy."_

Gibbs paused before saying, "Thanks, Abs," and snapping close his phone.

He advanced on Ziva next, anger written plainly on his face, "When were you planning on telling me, _Officer David?"_

Ziva didn't back down. Instead, she met the man's glare evenly, "Spies are meant to be hidden. I could not give away his cover."

"Even while compromising our investigation?"

"Yes," she answered honestly, "I owe that man more than you will ever comprehend. He has saved my life more times than I can count."

The two had a staring contest for a long moment, where Tony backed away, not ready to feel the boss' wrath.

"After this case, David," Gibbs said softly, but very dangerously, "we will have a long talk on why I shouldn't send you back to Israel."

EVERYBODY*DIES

"Everything said here is off the record," Joe Byrne had sent in another field agent that Alex knew well. Agent Grant Fisher. Alex didn't particularly like Fisher, but then again, Alex didn't like many people.

"Off the record," Gibbs confirmed, not looking very happy about it.

"Agent Rider was on a very sensitive operation for a joint CIA-MI6 mission," Fisher said softly, as if someone would overhear them.

The cameras and microphones had all been turned off, and the only occupants in the room were Alex, Fisher, Gibbs, and Ziva.

Alex sighed, throwing his feet onto the table, "I was on an undercover mission with an organization called SCORPIA. They had previously been… dismantled, but a few months ago, the intelligence agencies got a warning that SCORPIA was forming here in D.C."

"A COBRA meeting was called, and it was decided that MI6 and CIA would cooperate in one of the largest covert operations ever recorded," Fisher continued, "We have around seventy field agents undercover in SCORPIA and countless more in the cyber unit working."

"The man who killed your Marine," Alex sounded dangerous, "is ex-CIA Mark Porras. I was assigned to be his partner in SCORPIA. Our third mission together was to interrogate Wilson, but the beating up thing was just Porras' idea of fun."

" _Fun?"_ Gibbs didn't sound very happy with that.

"I decided that it was probably the best to act then. The idea was thatI'd interrogate and _dispose_ of Porras, then frame Wilson for killing him. It was the perfect setup," Alex continued, "but as you saw, Porras stabbed me."

Ziva looked suitably annoyed, "Is Porras still alive?"

Alex shook his head, "No. I killed him and hid his body. Contacted SCORPIA too. They think I'm on the run from you guys. I said I'd get back to base in a week, once I finished dealing with you."

"Base?" Gibbs questioned.

"A big one just in this area," Fisher piped in, "We've been catching dozens of them, but most of them found a way to kill themselves before talking."

"And how can we help?"

Alex shook his head, "Just stay out of it. There's no need for you to get involved."

"Dammit, Rider! Tell me what I can do!" Gibbs sounded like he was interrogating Alex again.

Alex scoffed, heading to the door, Fisher close behind him, "Case closed, Gibbs. Take another one."

The two left, slamming the door shut behind them, leaving Ziva and Gibbs alone.

* * *

 **A/N:** I know... too many line breaks... but like I said: I wrote it, so I'm gonna post it. Anyway, school is starting on the first of September for me, so it looks like I'm going to be pretty busy. ENJOY THIS WHILE IT LASTS.  
-Alice x (for BTS, follow me on twitter at dalekchung)


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN NCIS NOR DO I OWN ALEX RIDER. I'M A NOBODY, THANK YOU VERY MUCH.**

EVERYBODY DIES

III: Epilouge

 _Four Months Later:_

Alex had lots of regrets in his life that he'd never be able to fix. He regretted being a curious, naive child. He regretted getting involved with MI6. He regretted dragging Ben Daniels into this _stupid_ undercover mission. He regretted all the deaths that he caused.

He was an inch away from death. It was easy to sense. Three months in a cold cement prison and three months of torture was bound to kill him.

Alex didn't feel the panic that was usually associated with death. Instead, he felt calm and, dare he say, _happy_ to finally escape the damn world of espionage.

Would he meet his family once he died? Would he encounter all his dead friends? Ben Daniels, for one. He'd died merely a day ago. Maybe Tom Harris, who had been murdered nearly half a year ago.

Alex had seen too much. He'd heard too much. He'd simply existed too long. He just wanted it to be over.

The physical pain had somehow faded to a throbbing numbness, but his mind – oh his _mind!_ Alex felt like his thoughts were on fire, burning him in internal agony.

Someone picked him up, but Alex couldn't tell who it was. All he could tell was that the person was rough. His wounds were jostled, but Alex couldn't feel it. He just wanted to fade away.

The last thing he felt was the hard ground under his nearly broken back.

EVERYBODY*DIES

"Triple homicide with a dead Petty Officer in the park," Gibbs called to the team in the squad room, "Gear up!"

Ziva moved slowly and reluctantly, which hadn't gone unnoticed by her team. She'd been that way ever since Alex had disappeared four months ago. She hadn't gotten a single peep from her old friend. Not a call, not a text, not a single clue.

She knew that no one on her team really cared about Alex. They had only known Alex for two days. The most that anyone had said was from Ducky, who said that he "had been a good lad".

"Come on, slow poke!" Tony called to Ziva.

She entered the elevator, glaring at the agent, "I will show you a fast poke."

Tony raised his hands in surrender, exchanging a look with McGee that Ziva didn't miss.

"The park" that Gibbs had mentioned wasn't the one close by NCIS' headquarters. They had to drive out about half an hour, but it had taken longer, due to the traffic, which Ziva had no problem cursing out. In Hebrew, of course.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Tony pulled Ziva to the side of the crime scene once they'd arrived. He looked more serious than Ziva had ever seen.

"I am fine," Ziva said haughtily, crossing her arms.

Tony frowned, "You are not fine! You've been depressed ever since Alex disappeared. We're all worried about you."

"I am fine," Ziva repeated, snatching the camera out of Tony's hands. She stalked away, back towards the crime scene.

"A jogger spotted them at around 0530 this morning," the Metro police officer was briefing Gibbs, "Didn't see who did it. Claims to have seen one of the bodies move around though."

Ziva got to work, snapping pictures of the scene before letting Ducky through.

"Petty Officer Chase… Wilson," Ducky looked up at Gibbs, whose face turned hard at the name.

"Wilson," Gibbs repeated.

Ziva started at the name. Was this Alex's idea of a cryptic message? Was he still alive?

The man was beaten in a similar fashion as the original Wilson. A single gunshot wound between his eyes signified his cause of death.

Ducky pulled the thermometer out of the Petty Officer's liver, "Time of death… I can't say for certain, but his death was twelve hours ago. No more than twenty-four to be certain."

The next body was splayed awkwardly, puncture wounds in his hands and bare feet. Blood stained the rest of his clothes.

"It looks like this poor fellow's demise was caused by exsanguination, but I can't be sure until I perform the autopsy. Full rigor mortis. This fellow died more than twenty-four hours ago." Ducky moved on to the next victim.

Ziva watched with undisguised interest. Maybe it was the way the last victim's blonde hair reminded her of Alex…

The man was on his stomach, his face in the grass. Ducky pointed at the blood on the grass next to the victim.

"This poor lad was the one to move," he said to Gibbs, "First stages of rigor mortis. I'd put his death to about… two to four hours ago?"

But Ziva was barely listening. Hell, she was barely breathing. She stumbled towards the body, mouth dry.

"Ziva?" Gibbs started towards her, catching her as she stumbled over one of the dead bodies, "Ziva, what's wrong?"

She couldn't answer him. She couldn't even thinking properly, much less _say_ anything.

Because the man on the ground was someone she knew. Someone she had talked to just months ago. Someone she hoped to hear from. Someone she _loved._

The man on the ground – _not_ a victim – was Alex Rider.

EVERYBODY*DIES

Garbed in all black, the NCIS team was among those who showed up at Alex's funeral. They had flown to the United Kingdom with Alex's body once their case was solved.

No one had uttered a single word on the flight. They seemed to understand the pain that Ziva was facing and opted to stay respectfully silent.

Ziva recognized many of those who came. They were mostly important figures in military intelligence. The head of MI6, the head of MI5, her very own father, the head of CIA, FBI, and even the Prime Minister.

"The whole alphabet," Tony muttered, voicing aloud what no one was willing to say.

Ziva managed to crack a smile at his joke.

From what she could see, there was no one outside of the business that had come. No friends, no family.

Ziva vaguely recalled a time where Alex mentioned this. It was on a mission in Iraq. The same one that Alex had saved her life – for the seventh time.

"...a brave and patriotic man," Ziva wasn't listening to the service. Instead, her eyes were fixed on the coffin. No tears escaped her hard eyes. No sign of any grief at all.

"He will be missed by all..."

Ziva bit the inside of her cheek, sensing the feeling of tears behind her eyes.

"Hey," Gibbs put a hand on her shoulder, "It's okay to cry."

Ziva didn't look up at him.

"It's okay," Gibbs pulled her into a sturdy hug. Silent sobs racked her body.

Unbeknownst to the horde of military intelligence officers, a black haired, green eyed teenage boy slipped away, a smirk playing at his lips. Under his breath, he murmured triumphantly, "Operation Everybody Dies: complete."

* * *

 **A/N:** Wasn't that ending just stupid? What was I thinking...? I would have completely rewritten it, but ya know... the dreaded schoolwork... WHYYY?

Anyway... bye...

-Alice


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